


Flashes in the Dark

by Sand3



Category: Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand3/pseuds/Sand3
Summary: Takes place during AvX.Quentin gets spooked and reaches out for reassurance. He gets a bit more than that.





	Flashes in the Dark

“Quentin, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, could you please consider turning down your music?” Broo called, knocking politely at the door.

“Out of my way, _sleazoid!_ I’m gonna knock down the door and _kick_ that little troll’s _teeth_ in!” Hellion shouted, stalking down the hall.

“Julian, I really don’t think violence is the answer!” Broo protested.

“Broo, normally I would agree,” Evan said, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning against the wall. “But it is one AM and I am really tired and Quentin is being a _dick_.”

“When is he _not?_ ” Hellion snorted, batting Broo away from the door with a light TK blast.

“ _Hey!_ ” Evan shouted, moving to help Broo as he stumbled and sat heavily, looking startled.

“ _Fight!_ ” the inarticulate guy from Utopia exclaimed.

“ _No_ fight, Tevon,” Vic said quickly, catching his arm. “Professor Pryde’s going to put you in _permanent_ detention if you break school property again, Julian.”

“Fight?”

“ _No_ fight.”

“ _Whatever_. It’s _Pinky’s_ fault,” Hellion snapped, gesturing at the door and feigning a nonchalant look. “He wouldn’t open the door, and I was concerned for my fellow student’s-” he swept his arms through the air and ripped the door off its hinges, throwing it against the opposite wall “ _safety!_ ... Oh… shit… that... looks bad.”

“What--” Evan moved to look into the dorm and fell silent, staring.

There was some kind of energy crackling through the air, accompanied by a sweet incense smell, and a now even _louder_ throb of techno music, and in the middle of it all was Quentin, shaking and twitching, surrounded by a faint green glow and not quite touching the floor. The whole image was made at least ten times creepier by the strobe light and looked surreally haunted-house like.

“Is- is he _floating?_ ” Vic asked.

“Quire doesn’t _have_ TK!” Hellion protested, sounding offended.

“Broo, go get Professor Pryde. Tell her Quentin’s having a seizure. Or something,” Evan said, turning to the alien just long enough to see him turn and start dashing down the hall before looking at Quentin.

“What the crap is going on?” Glob Herman asked, coming out into the hall.

“Quire’s being a freak,” Hellion replied.

“Yeah, what _else_ is new,” Glob Herman yawned, trudging over to what was quickly becoming a crowd outside Quentin’s dorm. “ _Whoa! Shit!_ What the crap is he _doing?_ ”

“Quentin?” Evan called, stepping cautiously into the room. He flicked the overhead light on, which cut down a little on the haunted-house feeling, and edged closer to Quentin. His eyes were rolled back and his lips were moving slightly, was he talking? Evan turned off the stereo and tried to make out what Quentin was babbling. “Quentin?” Evan had read that people don’t breath when their having seizures, so if Quentin was speaking (even if he didn’t seem to be speaking actual words) then he must not be having a seizure. “Quentin?” he waved a hand in front of Quentin’s face.

“Dude’s _trippin’_ _balls!_ ” Glob Herman announced gleefully.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Evan said, reaching for Quentin’s shoulder and finding his hand repelled by the aura, which was barely visible with the lights on, an inch away from the other boy. “He’s... he’s got a TK shield or something around him.”

“Quire doesn’t _have TK!_ ” Hellion insisted.

000

“Professor Pryde?”

Kitty groaned, squeezing her eyes shut a bit tighter and willing that annoying knocking to be a dream or something. No such luck.

“Professor Pryde?” Broo’s voice called through the main door again. “There’s an emergency, Professor Pryde!”

Emergency = bad. She’d thought they were past the point of having any more students attempting to run away and join the Phoenixes, but one should never underestimate a teenager’s ability to make terrible decisions. Kitty rolled out of bed and staggered over to grab her robe off the back of a chair before heading for the front room while she pulled it on. “What’s the emergency, Broo?” she yawned as she dragged the door open.

“Quentin Quire is having a seizure!” Broo exclaimed, tiny clawed hands flailing.

“... What?”

“And he’s floating.”

“ _What?_ ” Kitty dropped down so that she was on Broo’s level. “Broo, what do you mean he’s _floating?_ ”

“His feet are not touching the floor,” Broo clarified. “And he has aura.”

“Damn it!” Kitty swore, back on her feet and phasing through the alien boy. “Broo, go wake the other teachers, please!” she called over her shoulder as she ran up the hall.

“All of them?” Broo shouted after her.

“Whoever’s left!” Kitty yelled back before running through a wall and taking the straight-line shortcut to the boys’ dormitory wing.

She took the stairs three at a time and could see a small crowd gathered outside Quire’s room as she charged up the hall. “ _Make some room, people!_ ” Kitty shouted as she charged into the group, two boy’s yelping when she phased through them. Evan was in the room, waving a hand in front of Quire’s blank face. And yes indeed Quire _was_ floating an inch or two above the floor. “Oy gevalt...” she whispered. “Evan, get out of there.”

“Professor Pryde, is--”

“Get _out_ of there _now_ ,” she snapped. “ _Everybody back up!_ ” Evan hurried back into the hall and Kitty phased through him on her way into the room. “Quire, you get your _feet_ back on the _floor_ right _now!_ ” she demanded.

“What’s happening?” Jean-Paul asked, _suddenly there_.

“Quire’s on drugs again,” Glob Herman answered out in the hall.

“No, something’s happening with his _powers_ ,” Evan corrected. “He’s got some kind of TK aura happening.”

“ _Quire doesn’t have TK!_ ” Hellion snapped, apparently threatened by the very thought.

“A little less defensive and a little more _useful_ please, Keller,” Jean-Paul drawled, coming into the doorway and pausing. “That... does not look good. Kitty, what do you need?”

“I need him to get his _God damned feet_ on the _floor_ and stop _doing_ _this!_ ” Kitty exclaimed. “We... we may need to evacuate if he doesn’t snap out of it...” her voice dropped, her throat feeling dry as she remembered the last time she’d seen that pale green TK aura. Was this connected to the Phoenix? How could it not be.

“... Back up,” Jean-Paul demanded, waving the students away; they of course inched back in to get a look as soon as he turned his back and returned to the doorway. “What is he doing?”

“I don’t know, but _last_ time Quire got his TK on it was _bad_ ,” Kitty said, trying to catch his shoulder and finding that the TK aura was apparently acting as armor.

“ _Quire doesn’t have TK!_ ”

“Shut _up_ , Hellion! I told you kids to _back up!_ ” Kitty snarled, poking her head out through the wall momentarily before returning to the room. “What is with the strobe-light?” she demanded, picking up the a small battery-powered device and switching it off.

“No idea,” Jean-Paul shrugged.

“Kitty! What’s happening?” Shan’s voice called breathlessly from the hall.

“Quire’s _done_ something to himself,” Kitty said helplessly. “I can’t find any drugs--”

“There’s nothing here but incense,” Jean-Paul noted, gusting through the room, making everything flutter slightly and flipping the mattress up against the wall.

“--but he’s doing _this_ ,” Kitty gestured as Shan appeared in the doorway, “and he’s non-responsive. Are you getting anything from him?”

“He’s... not there,” Shan said slowly, her eyes distant for a moment. “He’s sent his consciousness somewhere else. I can’t get a lock on it.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Kitty whispered.

“Who found him?” Cecilia’s voice called out in the hall.

“We kind of _all_ did,” Vic answered. “He had his stereo turned up to forty or something and Julian pulled the door off.”

“Week’s detention, Keller,” Jean-Paul announced, zipping back into the hallway.

“Oh _come on!_ ”

“Stereo? What was he listening to?” Cecilia demanded.

“Like some shitty _untz untz_ club music,” Hellion sulked. “He was throwing himself a little _rave_ or something.”

“Rave?” she asked sharply.

“There was a strobe-light,” Kitty called, leaning through the wall. “And incense.”

“He’s trancing,” Cecilia said, turning to her. “And he’s done it deliberately.”

“Back back back,” Jean-Paul snapped, trying to herd the students away. “Kitty, you said he’s done this before?”

“He’s manifested TK before, but last time he was _conscious_. Out of his head and raving like a lunatic, but _conscious_ at least,” Kitty said ducking back into the room.

“That makes sense,” Cecilia said, coming into the room. She reached for Quire’s neck like she was trying to get his pulse, and apparently hit the TK shield. “A unitary state of consciousness can trigger out of control violence or this type of trance-state. And it looks like unitary state really opens up Quire’s power-set...”

“Yeah, he gets stronger when he’s crazy. Figured that one out a couple years ago,” Kitty groaned.

“Not exactly crazy,” Cecilia shook her head, shining a pocket flashlight into Quire’s eyes. “He’s synched his sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. Most people, that would shut down their upper brain functions like reasoning and logic, but Quire’s brain isn’t exactly typical. You said he’s out to lunch, Shan?”

“Way out. I can’t even feel a direction,” Shan agreed. “Any idea what he’s saying?”

“Nothing. He’s speaking in tongues,” Cecilia answered.

“He’s possessed by the devil!” Glob Herman’s voice shouted and Kitty bit back the urge to go out there and throttle the little jelly-roll.

“Detention, two days,” Jean-Paul snapped.

“Wha- _Dude!_ Freedom of speech!” Glob Herman could be heard protesting.

“Three days.”

“ _Dude!_ ”

“Four--”

“ _Fine!_ I’m shutting up! _Dude!_ ”

Kitty resisted a tiny grin, turning her attention back to the convulsing teenager in the middle of the room. “How do we snap him out of it?” she asked.

“We _don’t_. His mind is so far away Shan can’t feel it, which means the unitary state is increasing Quire’s range well beyond his normal reach,” Cecilia said. “If he lost that range now, it would be like cutting the lifeline tying his mind to his body.”

“He’d get lost,” Shan paraphrased.

Kitty made a frustrated snarling sound. “He is _never._ _ever._ getting out of detention.”

The next moment she felt a pulse ripple through the room and suddenly Quire was falling. “ _Whoa!_ ” she lunged to grab him, but Jean-Paul was there first, catching Quire before he could slam down into the floor.

“... Was that a good thing or a surprise-lobotomy thing?” Jean-Paul wondered aloud, frowning as he attempted to set Quentin down on the carpet in something like a sitting position.

“He’s back,” Shan announced.

“... The fuck are you doing in my room?” Quire demanded in a quiet, wavering voice.

“What the _hell_ were you _thinking_ , ya little _shmuck?!_ ” Kitty demanded, grabbing Quentin’s shoulders and shaking him.

“W-what th- _fucking_ \- _Jesus Christ!_ ” Quentin reached out to push Kitty away and apparently _missed_ , before toppling sideways and flopping down on the floor. “ _Fuck_.”

“ _What were you doing?!_ ” Kitty shouted, crouching down to glare at him.

“Had to... check... something...” Quentin mumbled.

“Everybody back to your rooms,” Jean-Paul called, going back into the hall. “It is _way_ past curfew.”

“ _Seriously?_ ” Hellion demanded.

“Let’s see, you’re already at a week’s detention, how many more days would you like to tack onto that, Keller?”

“Dude went all _Exorcist_ and you expect us to just _go_ on back to _bed_ like nothing _happened?_ ”

“One...”

“We have a _right_ to know what the _hell_ just _happened!_ ”

“Two...”

“What, you’re _counting to three_ on me? _Seriously?_ ”

“No, I’m counting how many additional detention days you’re earning,” Jean-Paul corrected. “Three...”

“Oh my _God!_ ” Hellion shouted. “Can’t _believe_ you people!”

Kitty tried to tune out the continued protests of students in the hall and focus on interrogating Quire. “ _What_ were you _checking?_ ”

“... there’s... tomorrow... alive... see it...” Quentin whispered, his eyes closed and face pressed against the floor in a way that _had_ to be uncomfortable. ‘If there’s a tomorrow and if I’ll/we’ll still be alive to see it’ Kitty’s mind added the missing words.

“... You were talking to the Phoenix,” Kitty breathed.

“Which one?” Shan asked.

“... One... all...” Quire mumbled.

Not a host, he hadn’t been talking to one of the hosts, he’d been talking to the actual _Phoenix_. Why was she so sure of that? Because she’d seen him grab at the Phoenix before, force it to pause and consider him like none of the rest of them could. Just months before the Scarlet Witch turned the world on its head. Quire had never gone back into his omega-rampage-mode again, but two years had passed, he _had_ to have gotten stronger, didn’t he? If he could make the Phoenix sit down for a chat when he was fourteen, why _not_ now?

“Quire, what did it say?” Kitty asked, hunched over on the floor, staring at Quire who looked more than half asleep.

“... Cyclops... last man standing...” Quire breathed so quietly Kitty wouldn’t have been able to hear him if she weren’t right there. She wondered if anybody else had heard, and she just about could have hugged Quire because oh thank _God_ it wasn’t going to be Emma. Which still begged the question of how Quire knew- how _the Phoenix_ knew what still had yet to happen. But Quire didn’t seem to be in any kind of shape for giving complex answers at the moment.

“What’s wrong with him?” Kitty sat up and looked at Cecilia.

“He’s exhausted,” Cecilia answered. “Unitary state is extremely draining, and since he was using powers he doesn’t normally even _have_...”

“He’s already asleep,” Shan noted.

“... Right...” Kitty sighed, pushing her hands through her hair squeezing her eyes shut. “Ungh... I d’know, should I put him under watch or just tell the kitchen he doesn’t get breakfast until after he reports to my office for some ‘splainin’?”

000

“Ungh, you _fascists_. I am going to _report_ this. I’m pretty sure _starving children_ is against every law _ever_ ,” Quire was complaining _loudly_ as he came out of the cafeteria, moments before Logan grabbed him by the arm. “ _Hey!_ Oh, _you’re_ back? I guess that means there’s no one left to stab?” Quire sneered up at him. “Where the hell are we going?”

“Principal’s office. You’re in trouble,” Logan growled. “Y’ been asleep for four days, Quire.”

“Yeah, and I’m _hungry!_ ” Quire snapped.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“And maybe I’d explain a lot better if I wasn’t _starving!_ ”

“Shut up,” Logan snapped, pushing the door to Kitty’s office open and dragging him inside.

“So is it ‘shut up’ or ‘explain’? Make up your tiny mind!” Quire complained as he was shoved into a chair in front of Kitty’s desk.

“Quire, this is serious,” Kitty said, pushing some papers she’d been reading aside and folding her hands on the desk in front of her.

“And I’m seriously _hungry!_ ”

Kitty sighed, rolling her eyes, and picked up the phone, pressing one of the internal call buttons. “Yeah, this is Kitty. Could you send a tray up to my office? ... Y’know, everything, just pile it on there... Thanks.” She hung up the phone and turned back to Quire with a hard stare. “Breakfast is on its way. So talk.”

Quire groaned, leaning back in his chair and glaring at the ceiling. “What do you want from me?”

“ _You messed with the Phoenix!_ ” Logan roared, glaring down at him.

“I _asked_ a _question!_ ” Quire snapped back. “And stop spitting on me!”

“ _What_ did you ask, Quentin?” Kitty managed to keep her voice fairly calm, but there was a hard edge to it.

Quire sat up and gave her a sulky look. “... Who wins. Do we all die? Guess not,” he said quietly.

“... You said Scott Summers was going to be the last man standing,” Kitty said quietly. “How did you know?”

“... I saw him.”

“You _saw_ him?” Kitty repeated. “Where?”

“In the Phoenix,” Quire said. “He was there, Frost wasn’t. Which means he’s a _real_ host and she’s not,” Quire said. “... I think. Kind of... guessing.”

“He was _in_ the Phoenix?” Logan demanded.

“ _Yes_.”

Kitty rubbed her hands over her face. “What does that _mean_ , Quentin?”

“All the legit hosts are in there!”

“In _where?_ ”

“Like this big huge room with a _billion_ people all wearing the same _outfit_ and _talking_ the same!” Quentin threw his hand up. “So- _I_ don’t know- maybe it was _Hell_ then.”

“A billion people?” Kitty asked, frowning. “You mean... all the hosts the Phoenix has ever had were in this... room?”

“... Or will have,” Quentin said a little quieter, his pulse quickening slightly and scent hinting at evasion. “It’s... the Phoenix is non-linear... It can’t tell the difference between tomorrow and yesterday so it’s... damn hard to get an answer out of it.”

“What did it tell you?” Kitty asked quietly.

“To go home and stop asking questions.”

“ _Quire!_ ”

“ _What?_ ” Quire demanded, glaring up at Logan. “What is your _problem?_ ”

Logan gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to calm down, and said in a quieter voice, “... Charles Xavier is dead.”

“... Oh...” Quire said very softly, his eyes widening and face going pale. “... Oh...” he repeated, staring down at his knees.

“... The Phoenix killed him... Or maybe Scott did... We’re... not sure...” Kitty said.

“... Oh...” Quire mumbled, pulling his feet up onto the chair and hugging his knees, looking as shaken as Logan had ever seen him. No bawling or hysterics like the other two occasions the boy had hit the wall, just quietly overwhelmed. “... Jesus Christ...”

There was a knock on the door. Logan opened it a few inches to see one of the cafeteria workers holding a tray brimming with random lunch food. “Hey, thanks,” Logan said, stepping out slightly to take it from her.

“No problem. Sorry about the wait,” the woman smiled.

“Nah. Record time. Have a good day,” Logan gave the woman a nod and she departed. “Still hungry, Quire?” he asked, stepping back into the room and putting the tray on the edge of Kitty’s desk.

“... No,” Quire mumbled.

“Eat anyway,” Logan instructed. “You’ve been out for four days. Hank was starting to talk IVs and feeding tubes.”

Quire stared blankly at the tray for another minute before putting his feet back on the floor and scooting his chair closer to the desk to grab a chicken-burger off the pile. He sat back in the chair, staring into space as he slowly ate. Quire had popped young, powers starting up at nine, and Logan could remember Charles referring to the new blip in Cerebro as an ‘extraordinary young talent’. He’d brought Quire in himself and personally mentored him for four years. And as pissy and obstinate as Quire had become since then, as much as he’d griped and snarled at Charles, clearly the man’s death was affecting him.

“... Did you see anything else there, Quentin?” Kitty asked quietly, her voice a little warmer now, as if she was talking to a kid who _didn’t_ drive her crazy.

“... Mrs. Gray-Summers told me not to come back... Said I was going to hurt myself...” Quire said quietly and Logan could hear Kitty’s breath catching even as his own did.

“... They’re all in there...?” Kitty asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“... How many did you recognize?” Logan asked.

“... Her and Cyclops... and Rachel... that Hope girl... and... that’s all,” the last words stank of a lie.

“Quire,” Logan said, trying not to snap. “Who else did you see?”

“... I don’t know. Some guy talked to me, I’ve never seen him before,” Quire said, wreaking of evasion and _fear_ , as he leaned forward and grabbed a bowl of mashed potatoes off the cafeteria tray.

“You’re scared,” Logan noted, narrowing his eyes.

“ _It was scary, okay?!_ ” Quire snapped, glaring at him. “I’m not going to pull that shit again because that place scared the _shit_ out of me!”

Kitty sighed. “Well you _can’t_ pull that shit again because the Phoenix is _gone_ now.”

“... I’m pretty sure that’s wishful thinking, but sure, whatever you say, Pryde,” Quire snorted.

“Something you want to share with the class?” Logan snarled.

“The Phoenix doesn’t just _go away_. I would have thought you people had figured that out by now,” Quire said, finishing the potatoes and grabbing a slice of pizza. “How many times have you _thought_ the Phoenix was gone?”

Logan looked at Kitty, who met his eyes for a moment, frowning, worried.

“Give it a few years,” Quire sneered, his mouth full. “We’ll do this whole song and dance again. And again. And again.”

000

_Four Days Earlier:_

The smell of the incense was obnoxious. How did some people actually _like_ this stuff? Quentin wrinkled his nose as he glared at the bottom of the strobe light, playing with the dial until the flashes finally started to match up with the music. He put it on the corner of the desk and twisted the stereo’s volume up as high as he could stand before moving to switch off the overhead light. Obnoxious. So obnoxious. Why did it have to be this obnoxious?

He tossed his glasses at the desk and focused on the beat and the memory of a sensation. The memory was old and stale, he’d shoved it way back in his mind, tried to forget it. Quentin didn’t want the memory, it was useless and dumb and painful. He just wanted what it had felt like. He just wanted to find the path back to that un-place. Find it in the beat the beat the beat the beat the beat.

The music, the smell, the flashing, started to fade away, leaving just the beat, the pulse, the feeling of his blood moving through his veins. Quentin reached, searching, calling, _[_ _Where are you?]_

“ _Too young_ ,” Rachael said, catching Quentin’s chin and turning his face slightly, examining him.

“ _You are not meant to be here yet_ ,” Jean Gray added, pulling his arm up and seeming to inspect him as well.

“ _He’s precocious_ ,” Hope noted looking him up and down. “ _And reckless_.”

Quentin glanced around, everywhere people were staring curiously back, some reaching out and poking at him. They all had the raptor emblazoned across their chests and their eyes glowed. Some of them had little tongues of flame occasionally rolling off their shoulders or hair. Quentin opened his mouth and tried to draw a breath, then his chest seized. Pain shook through him and he stumbled, only to be supported by half a dozen Phoenixes catching him and holding him upright.

“ _Don’t try to speak. You shouldn’t have come here,_ ” Cyclops said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“ _You aren’t strong enough yet_ ,” Jean Gray said, frowning. “ _You will damage yourself_.”

“ _You must not be damaged_ ,” Rachel said firmly. “ _You should not have come_.”

“ _If you tell him that, he’ll only try to prove you wrong_ ,” a vaguely familiar voice noted from the throng. “ _The body is young, but the will is strong_.”

“ _Will alone is not enough_ ,” Hope replied, shaking her head. “ _His life is flickering even now_.”

“ _You should not have come_ ,” Cyclops said again.

 _[Am I going to die? Are you going to scour the Earth?]_ Quentin asked, keeping his mouth firmly shut and resisting the impulse to try to breath.

“ _The Earth is scoured_ ,” Rachel looked at Jean Gray.

“ _How many times?_ ” Jean Gray asked, tilting her head and seeming to think.

“ _Many_ ,” Cyclops nodded.

 _[Do_ _ **you**_ _scour it?_ _ **This**_ _host?]_ Quentin asked, pointing at Cyclops.

The throng seemed split between looking at Cyclops-Phoenix or looking at Quentin’s finger. “ _This host does not_ ,” Cyclops answered.

“ _You must go_ ,” Rachel said, pressing a hand against Quentin’s chest and staring down at him. “ _You must not be damaged_.”

_[You need me alive?]_

“ _You must not be damaged_ ,” Jean Gray and Hope echoed in unison.

Quentin bit his tongue slightly and looked slowly between the four faces he knew and the uncountable multitude beyond. He’d never seen the rest, yet some part of him was sure he knew each and every one of them. _[_ _I’m being threatened_ _,]_ he said, glancing back at Rachel- it wasn’t really Rachel, but the familiarity still held some comfort. _[_ _I’m going to be damaged_ _.]_

A wave of unease and anger rippled through the thong. “ _Who threatens him?_ ” “ _He must not be damaged_.” “ _Who would dare?_ ”

 _[Charles Xavier_ _,]_ Quentin answered. _[_ _He almost unmade me_ _ **once**_ _trying to keep me on a leash. Now that I’ve put myself back together, he’s started this ‘I may not be able to control you but I can control your world’ shit again.]_

“ _Xavier_ ,” Jean Gray’s eyes narrowed. “ _He believes we are his to control._ ”

“ _He threatens what is ours_ ,” Rachel agreed.

“ _We will_ _ **not**_ _be threatened_ ,” Cyclops crossed his arms.

“ _Go back_ ,” a voice that had spoken earlier, familiar but not one Quentin could place, instructed and a hand fell on his shoulder. “ _You will not be threatened_.”

 _[How do you figure?]_ Quentin demanded, twisting to see what the speaker looked like and freezing.

“ _We will not be threatened_ ,” a Phoenix dressed in black and green said, looking down at him. Quentin stared, eyes tracing over the shape of the speaker’s face and eyes, the color of his hair, the slight smirk twisting the corner of his lips. “ _Go back where you are meant to be. You must not be damaged. Or threatened_.”

Quentin took a step away from him, trembling slightly. _[_ _I don’t know the way. I don’t know how I got here_ _,]_ he said.

“ _You must return_ ,” Rachel said, catching his arm.

“ _You must wake up_ ,” Hope added, catching his other arm.

“ _You must not be damaged_ ,” Cyclops grabbed his wrist.

Suddenly dozens of Phoenixes were grabbing onto him and the next moment Quentin was being thrown. He tried to scream, but there was still no air. He was falling. He was hitting something. Then he was falling again. Then he was being caught.

“... Was that a good thing or a surprise-lobotomy thing?” a voice asked above him.

“He’s back,” another answered.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote about five years ago. Originally I think I'd planned it to fit into something bigger, the something-bigger never happened, but I liked it, and this is still sort of my head-canon, so I tied it up a little neater to turn into a stand-alone one-shot.
> 
> I made a couple of references to the color green that may have been confusing for somebody who hasn't read Quentin's arch from the beginning. In New X-Men volume 1 and Phoenix Warsong, Quentin's psyche-color was neon green, however in newer comics they've been pretty consistently coloring him with a pink psychic aura and psi-font etc. And it would make perfect sense for his psyche to have changed color, it was basically shredded and reassembled, and besides that he's grown and changed as a person. I debated changing the color-references to pink, but decided to leave them as I'd originally written back in 2013.
> 
> Until the recent GenX run, the only place we'd seen Quentin exhibiting TK was Phoenix Warsong, where he's also definitely altered, and part of it is at that point his psyche is still repairing itself from his meltdown in his first appearance, but I also think of him as being in unitary there to explain why he's weirdly unhinged from reality, violent and his powers are amped _way_ up, so I head-canoned that being in unitary shuts off the safety-limit blocks that should normally be preventing him from hurting/breaking himself with his powers.
> 
> Unitary state is an altered state of consciousness that can manifest as trancing and speaking in tongues or as berserking. It's not drug-induced. It's practiced as a form of religious rapture by a lot of religions in the world (Pentecostals are the best known for it in the US).


End file.
